


First Impressions

by Storywriter



Series: First Impressions [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storywriter/pseuds/Storywriter
Summary: “Do you want to be friends?”It’s the littlest things which have the biggest impact. In which Shizuo’s and Izaya’s first meeting went a little bit better, and the world changes as a result.(A remake of an old fic of mine.)
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson
Series: First Impressions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661845
Comments: 21
Kudos: 75





	1. The Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers:** I do not own the _Durarara!!_ series. That is the work of Narita Ryohgo _(surname first)_. The only things I own here would be the plot and original characters _(if there’s any)_.
> 
>  **Disclaimer 2** : I’m not a native English or Japanese speaker, so if you see some mistakes, please be patient with me and kindly inform me in the comment section below. Thank you!
> 
> This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
> 
> **_Please do NOT repost this onto other websites without my explicit consent! Unless otherwise stated, this story and its series is only available on Archive of Our Own under Storywriter, and not any other websites, including Wattpad or Fanfiction(.)net. _ **

_Butterflies are beautiful creatures._

_First, let me make it clear that I am not referring to the animal itself. It is a common everyday insect that has the average lifespan of two weeks or less, though some breeds can live up to eleven months. No, what makes a butterfly interesting has less to do with the creature itself, and more to do with the **meanings** that people attach to it._

_Death, rebirth, **change**._

_For today, let’s talk about the last one._

_Have you heard about the ‘Butterfly Effect’? It originates from chaos theory, which is actually a branch of mathematics focusing on the study of chaos, defined as states of dynamical systems whose apparently-random states of disorder and irregularities are often governed by deterministic laws that are highly sensitive to initial conditions. Edward Lorenz summarises it as:_

> **_Chaos: When the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future._ **

_Does that sound paradoxical to you? Well, to put it in another way, things are predictable for a while, and then ‘appears’ to become random, for one reason or another. Imagine the weather. You may be able to accurately predict the forecast for the next hour simply by looking at the sky, but even the best meteorologists can only tell what the weather would be like for the next seven days. Anything longer than that would be up to chance._

_Basically, when meaningful predictions cannot be made, the system appears random, or in other words, chaotic._

_Now, what does this have to do with butterflies?_

_In chaos theory, the Butterfly Effect is the sensitive dependence of initial conditions in which small change in one state of the deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state._

_Or to put it in another way: **little changes pile up over time to create a major change.**_

_The famous metaphor varies, but at its core, it is simply: “A butterfly flapping its wings in one place can cause a tornado in another place.”_

_Of course, the butterfly by itself cannot create a tornado. However the flap of its wings represents the small change in the initial system—a slight disturbance in the world—which can trigger other events and incidents, culminating into that fateful tornado. Perhaps, if the butterfly had not flapped its wings, the tornado will not occur...or perhaps the tornado will simply appear in a different location._

_Now, what is the point of all this?_

_I have been watching over a certain family in Ikebukuro for a while now. Consider it a favour for an old friend, though she may disagree with calling me that. So far, everything is predictable, following a deterministic system that showed no hints of deviation._

_Humans are interesting creatures, but they are also quite predictable._

_But there is a certain person in this town who deviates from the norm. If you spend more than a couple of days in Ikebukuro, then I’m sure you will at least hear about him. It is hard to miss the thrown street signs and flying vending machines._

_They call Heiwajima Shizuo a monster, but in this case, I think I will call him a butterfly._

**—Excerpt from Tsukumoya Shinichi’s private blog.**

.

-(X)-

.

It began in spring.

Heiwajima Shizuo was starting his first day of high school. Raijin High was not a prestigious school by any stretch of the word, but it had acceptable rankings and accepted him into their ranks. However, like the ticking of a countdown, his infamous temper was aggravated by the whispers which followed his wake and the frightened gazes trailing after him. Already, he was close to snapping.

He took deep breaths, trying the _(futile)_ anger management techniques numerous counsellors had taught him. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand _why_ the other students feared him; in fact, he understood the problem so well that he _hated_ himself more and more. He was a monster, he knew this, but the knowledge did not hurt any less.

The anger management techniques weren’t working. Staring at the ground, head bowed, didn’t make him stand out any less. So, feeling the last tendrils of his patience slipping away, Heiwajima Shizuo looked up.

And saw _him_.

It was hate at first sight.

He did not know his name. He did not know his personality. He knew absolutely _nothing_ about him yet _everything_ the black-haired teen staring down at them arrogantly with russet-red eyes _pissed him off._

Perhaps it was the way he stood, somehow apart from the crowd. Perhaps it was the way he looked down on them like ants in a glass box, giving off the air of a false god. Whatever it was, Shizuo’s instincts _screamed_ at him that he was trouble.

Yes, Heiwajima Shizuo hated him on sight.

And yet...

As he was swept into the school by the wave of the crowd, Shizuo’s gaze lingered on that solitary figure. It seemed that the other boy didn’t notice him, allowing Shizuo this brief, unguarded observation. As Shizuo entered the school, he couldn’t help but wonder:

_Is he as lonely as me?_

.

-(X)-

.

The thought liked to strike him out of the blue.

_Is he as lonely as me?_

His instincts _screamed_ that the unknown boy was nothing more than trouble, and usually Shizuo trusted his instincts. Everything about the other teen shouted _‘DO NOT APPROACH!!!’_ to his sharp senses. He didn’t know exactly _why,_ but something about his demeanour—the way he arrogantly looked down on them—pissed him off.

And yet, the same _‘something’_ noted how _lonely_ he seemed.

_How annoying._

For Heiwajima Shizuo, the world was divided into two: those who irked him and those who didn’t.

He could count the people in the latter category with two hands. So far, the only ones who didn’t piss him off were: his family, Tom, a certain milk lady, and Shinra _(who **does** annoy him, but not to the extent that he wanted to kill him)._

The unknown boy fell into the first category. In any other situation, that would have been that. Contrary to popular belief, Shizuo did not like violence. He _hated_ it with a passion. So much so, that he would avoid anyone his instincts had deemed as trouble, if only to spare them from injuries. At heart, Heiwajima Shizuo was truly a peaceful boy.

But there was something about the other teen that made him want to ignore his neatly categorised world.

It pissed him off to no end, how contradictory his feelings were for someone he never even spoken to. Shizuo liked things to be simple, as complicated things tend to frustrate him and turned him to violence. This complicated feelings however lingered throughout the whole day, invoking his anger and setting it to a low, constant simmer that set his face to a scowl for the entirety of his first day at school. His expression scared off anyone who might have ignored the rumours surrounding him and approached him.

Shizuo was aware of this and it _pissed him off._

Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger, anger. _Rage._

Yes, Heiwajima Shizuo was the embodiment of Rage.

And he _hated_ it.

And he hated the boy even more for _(unknowingly)_ making him angry by his very existence.

But a part of Shizuo—the part that wasn’t controlled by his predilection to hyper-violence—thought that it was unfair.

_I don’t even know him and I already wrote him off?_

How many have done the same to him?

How many have looked at his bleached-blond hair and unfriendly scowl, and thought _‘I don’t want to be friends with him’_?

How many have given him a chance? How many have tried to reach out to him?

Heiwajima Shizuo was the embodiment of Rage, but the one he was most angry at was _himself_.

.

-(X)-

.

In the end, reason won out over anger.

After he returned from school, Shizuo gave the matter some thought. He would have liked to ignore it and moved on—to prevent himself from becoming more aggressive—but ignoring the issue didn’t work, so he settled on facing it head on. Because of that, he ignored Shinra’s request to come to the soccer field later.

Apparently, Shinra wanted to introduce him to someone; a friend of his from middle school. When he asked him about his friend, Shinra had laughed and told him that his friend was kind of an asshole, and that Shizuo would either liked him or instantly want to kill him on sight. Shizuo, hearing this description, opted not to meet this ‘friend’.

_(He was already pissed off from the unknown boy. No need to make his mood **worse**.)_

At home, he talked about it while making dinner with his brother. Their mother had texted them earlier, telling them that she was going to be late. Neither Shizuo nor Kasuka minded though; being an underground freelancer often lead to many late-night jobs.

_(They needed to pay for all the destruction Shizuo caused somehow, especially after their father died, leaving their mother the sole breadwinner of the house. Fortunately, people paid a **lot** for someone who was skilled and know how to keep their mouths shut.)_

“I met this guy today,” Shizuo said as he cut up some carrots. He wasn’t skilled in cooking, but he could follow his little brother’s instructions at least. “Well, not exactly _‘meet’_. I saw him, but didn’t approach him.”

Kasuka, who was measuring the rice, monotonously asked, “Why didn’t you, brother?”

“Because he pissed me off!” Growled Shizuo as he suddenly _chopped_ a carrot in half instead of cutting it. Half of it flew to the floor, “Shit.”

Kasuka watched as he crouched down to get the piece and throw it away. “It’s rare to see you so interested in someone,” his brother calmly remarked, unfazed by the sudden bout of violence, “You didn’t talk to him, right? So what made you angry?”

Shizuo frowned. While he was thinking his answer, Kasuka put the rice and water into the rice cooker, before instructing Shizuo to prepare the meat. As he did so, he answered, “I don’t know. There’s just something about him that I really, _really_ don’t like. You should’ve seen him when I entered the school, Kasuka! He was looking down on us like we’re ants!”

“And just because of that, you’ve decided to hate him?”

“...When you put it that way, it does sound really illogical.”

Kasuka shrugged, “Feelings aren’t logical.”

He said this in the same tone one might say _‘I heard from someone...’_ , as if he has never experienced such thing personally before. Shizuo knew that this wasn’t true. His little brother has feelings like everyone else, but he was absolutely terrible in showing it in a way that others would understand.

_(Not that it would stop his parents and Shizuo from loving him though.)_

“...Yeah, I know,” and Shizuo understood it _very_ well. After all, his bouts of rage were often invoked by seemingly trivial things, like a stolen pudding cup or kids taunting him, leading to acts of disproportionate retribution.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought that perhaps the instinctual rage and hatred the unknown boy inspired was the same as the overwhelming rage he felt when someone mocked his hair and he threw a street sign at them in retaliation.

In that case, didn’t this mean that this was another case of disproportionate retribution? As Kasuka pointed out, he never spoke to him, but he decided to hate him anyway. How unfair and illogical was that?

“Maybe you’re right, Kasuka...” Shizuo mused as he finished chopping the meat. His brother began to fry it, drizzling teriyaki sauce all over the chicken, “I don’t even _know_ him. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought...”

As Kasuka stirred the chicken, he replied, “Why don’t you give him a chance? It’s rare for you to be interested in someone anyway. Perhaps you two could be friends. If not, then at least you’ve tried.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo nodded, feeling much better. He smiled, “Thank you, Kasuka!”

“You’re welcome, brother.”

As Shizuo set the table and waited for his little brother to finish cooking, he looked back on the memory of that morning. He forced himself to ignore the anger and hatred the other teen’s nonchalant arrogant attitude set off in him and focused on the way he stood apart from others. Once more, the thought came to him:

_Is he as lonely as me?_

.

-(X)-

.

Shizuo began the next day with a new resolve: find out the boy’s name.

He didn’t think it would be too difficult. After all, for some reason, the other teen chose to wear the black and red uniform of Raijin Middle School instead of the high school’s blue uniform. It made him stand out from the crowd, and Shizuo wondered if that was on purpose.

_(A part of him noted that black and red suited such a shady person.)_

Once more, he ignored Shinra who whined at him about skipping yesterday’s meeting. Apparently, his friend was disappointed that he didn’t show up and wanted to arrange another meeting. Shizuo didn’t care; he had a mystery in his hands.

_(He couldn’t help but feel a little childish excitement. Shizuo had always wanted to become a detective when he was younger.)_

He managed to get the other teen’s name from a couple of girls who didn’t know his reputation. They were chatting about a ‘cute boy in black and red’ while eating lunch together under a tree when Shizuo happened to passed by. Hearing that description, Shizuo had approached them.

“Oh him?” One girl said with a shy little smile. Shizuo wondered what did she saw in such an obviously shady guy. “His name is Orihara Izaya.”

 _Izaya?_ Shizuo rolled the name on his tongue, frowning, “That’s a really unusual name.”

The girl shrugged, “I know, but I think that’s part of the charm. He’s so cool and smart, I heard that he used to the vice-president of the student council in his previous school!”

Not to be outdone by her friend, the other girl said, “I heard that he won several awards for independent research too!”

“And he won several poetry awards!”

“And was the star at sport meetings!”

_So a model student then?_

That didn’t sound so bad. In fact, Shizuo was about to change his opinion on the teen when he heard them say:

“Ah, but there was that one incident, right?”

Interest piqued, Shizuo asked, “What incident?”

The girl who spoke bit her lip, looking unsure, “Well, I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard he stabbed someone.”

“Nah, no way it’s true,” her friend confidently declared, “Orihara-kun is a great student. I don’t think he’s the type to stab someone. Besides, the guy who got stabbed is shady as hell.”

Shizuo crouched down so that they were all eye level. He leaned forward, “Can you tell me more?”

“Sure! But these are just rumours. Apparently someone was running a gambling ring in the Biology Club back in middle school. I don’t know the details, but someone ended up getting stabbed and Orihara-kun got the blame for that.”

_Gambling ring? Stabbing? That’s not something a ‘model’ student would do._

But it did fit with Shizuo’s first impression of the teen. Still, this was just a rumour. There were many who said that Shizuo had killed people in his rampages, when the truth was that he had never taken a life _(much to his relief)_. People spread all sorts of malicious lies everyday, that it was difficult to verify the truth.

“Who got stabbed?” Shizuo asked. Maybe if he knew the person, he could ask them himself and get more information...

“Oh, it’s that weird guy who keeps blabbing about his nonexistent girlfriend, Kishitani Shinra!”

.

-(X)-

.

“You got stabbed!?”

“Hi, Shizuo-kun!” Shinra greeted him cheerfully when he returned back to class, “Have you changed your mind about meeting my friend yet?”

Shizuo glared at him, annoyed that he ignored his question, “Shinra, cut the crap. I heard you got stabbed in middle school?”

“Oh that,” Shinra shrugged as if it was old news, still smiling cheerfully, “Yeah, that happened. Celty was so worried when I got back home. She kept hovering over me and asking if I’m alright. Ah, if I had known that would’ve happened, I would have gotten stabbed earlier!”

Shizuo ignored his speech after Celty was mentioned, knowing that Shinra would go on and on about this person if he let him, “Who stabbed you?”

“My friend, Orihara Izaya!”

The blond teen sat down in the seat in front of his friend and squinted at the still-smiling Shinra. Normally, you wouldn’t call the guy who stabbed you a friend so brazenly, but this was _Shinra_. Shizuo had broken several of his bones back when they were in elementary school because the brunet kept hounding him for blood samples. Somehow though, they were still friends even now.

So in short, that didn’t really tell him much about the kind of person ‘Orihara Izaya’ was.

“Wait a minute...” said Shizuo as he realised something, “This ‘friend’ you keep bugging me to meet. Is it Orihara Izaya?”

“Yes!” Shinra confirmed enthusiastically, “Does this mean you’re finally going to meet him? He’s been asking about you a lot you know. Though he mistook you for a girl at first.”

Fuck no. After everything he’d seen and heard, Shizuo doubted this teen was a normal guy. Still, he couldn’t help but be curious...

“Why did he stabbed you?” Was it because Shinra was annoying? Shizuo had broken some of Shinra’s bones for the same reason, though the bespectacled teen always bounced back. Perhaps this Orihara Izaya had similar problems like him, but was more stab-happy than a bone-breaker?

“Aaah, I can’t tell you about that, Shizuo-kun!”

“Why?” Shizuo frowned, glaring at him and cracking his knuckles. Shinra sweated under the threat, but still carried on cheerfully.

“I promised not to tell anyone.”

_Curiouser and curiouser..._

This was getting increasingly shady. So many questions popped up in his mind then, drawing him further into the mystery of Orihara Izaya. He felt like a detective then, about to uncover a nefarious villain’s plot or secret identity.

_(It was a good thing he didn’t meet Izaya beforehand, or else he would have been so angered that he lost all interest in knowing the other teen the moment Izaya opened his mouth.)_

An idea popped up in his mind, “Hey, I heard that there was a gambling ring in the Biology Club in your middle school. What’s that gotta do with your stabbing?”

“My, my, Shizuo-kun, you’re certainly inquisitve today,” Shinra remarked, fixing his glasses. The light reflected off it strangely, “...Are you sure you don’t want to just meet Orihara-kun and ask him about this yourself?”

Shizuo glared at him, “Just answer the question.”

“Alright, alright,” Shinra relented, “I was the president of the Biology Club back then and Orihara-kun was the vice president. Actually, it’s more accurate to say that we founded the club together.”

“Why?”

“For Celty, of course! She was worried that I didn’t have any friends at school so I thought that I should make a club to ease her worries.”

“Not _that_ ,” Shizuo pushed down his rising temper, “Why _him?_ Why did you approach Orihara?”

“Oh, that,” Shinra was still smiling, but there was an odd tint to his cheerfulness, as if he had figured something out, “I asked him because he was lonely.”

It was not _‘I asked him because he **looked** lonely’_ but _‘I asked him because he **was** lonely’._There was no hesitation in his answer. Shinra stated it as if it was an objective fact: the sky was blue, water was wet, and Orihara Izaya was lonely.

A shiver went down Shizuo’s spine.

_(It was moments like these that he remembered Shinra—despite all his airheadedness and weirdness—was remarkably astute when he wanted to be.)_

“That’s why you’re asking all those questions, right, Shizuo-kun?” Shinra asked, still with that crystal-clear clarity in his gaze that pierced straight to the truth, “You noticed the same thing I did and wanted confirmation.”

Shizuo averted his gaze, now looking at the windows. Outside, students were packing their lunches and making their way back to their classes. He wondered if Orihara Izaya was one of them.

Or perhaps he was alone too, like...

“...I saw him on my first day here,” Shizuo eventually replied, “He was looking down at us like we’re ants, or toys he wanted to play with. It pissed me off.”

“Yet you still want to know him better.”

“...”

“Shizuo-kun,” he turned his attention back to the bespectacled teen and saw Shinra smiling gently, elbow propped on the table and palm supporting a cheek. His friend looked as if he had just found something fascinating, “Orihara-kun’s hobby is human observation. He likes to watch people and see what makes them tick, the things they would do when pressed into certain situations, things like that. He says that it’s because he loves all of humanity.”

Shizuo scrunched his nose, “That sounds batshit insane and creepy.”

Shinra laughed, “Hahaha, I know, right? It’s not a hobby or love that normal, decent people have. But you know...”

That strange, knowing yet detached smile returned. Shinra spoke as if he was simply an observer looking in.

“Orihara-kun is very human, perhaps more than anyone I know. He’s so fragile inside, that if you pump him full of love and betrayal, I think he’d fall apart. I think that’s why he decided to love humanity by letting everything wash over him. Do you see what I’m saying? He accepts everything, but he doesn’t take it in. He lets it wash over him.”

“...That makes him sound like he’s _avoiding_ humanity. Like he’s a coward.”

“Yup, I know!” Once more, Shinra laughed, as if was something amusing, “He’s such a coward that he can laugh. But...”

Shinra gazed at him with a doctor’s precision that was a contrast to his cheerful tone.

“That’s why, if you want to be friends with him, you have to accept him for who he is first, even if ‘who he is’ is like toxic mist or a drug. Understand him and thrust ‘choices’ onto him, the same way he tries to understand humans and give them choices. More than that, stand by the decisions he makes, even if it’s a bad one.”

“...What kind of advice is that!?”

“Well, it’s the same normal friends do for each other, right? You would love and support your friends, no matter what they do. It’s the same with him. Before you think you want to become friends with him or be liked by him, you should become his friend first. He’s a surprisingly loyal guy after that.”

“...”

“Well, I think that’s all I can say about Orihara-kun,” Shinra stated cheerfully, “Ah, but there is one more thing.”

Shizuo looked at him curiously.

“He’s not a saint or good by any stretch of the word, but he’s also not evil or malicious. He’s something like a natural disaster or toxic mist, in that he may not mean to harm anyone, but people will still get harmed anyway just by being around him. Yet despite all that, he loves humans and wants to be around them.”

Hearing that, Shizuo froze, something which did not escape Shinra’s sharp gaze.

“You understand it now, Shizuo-kun? The reason why I insist on you two meeting?” Shinra asked rhetorically, “Both of you are quite similar, like natural foils to one another. If you two meet, I think both of you would get along really well or absolutely loathe each other.”

“...”

“Above all else though, remember this: despite what others or he himself may think, Orihara-kun is still human.”

Shizuo averted his gaze, staring at the table. Shinra’s voice washed over him.

“Yes...Orihara Izaya is human.”

.

.

.

-(X)-

.

.

.

# Author’s Notes:

So...here I am again.

I started the original _First Impressions_ waaaayyyy back in 2016. It’s been 4 years since then, and I thought I had moved on from that fandom. But the truth is that I still love _Durarara!!_ a lot. For me, it’s a very unique story that I can’t help but fall in love with. It may not necessarily be a masterpiece to others, but I enjoyed it and I like reading/watching it. I suppose, in the end, that’s the most important quality a story should have.

A lot have changed in the past four years, but some things remain the same. If you read this and compare it to the previous _First Impressions_ , I’m sure you can see the stark difference. Honestly, when I read my past works _(not just First Impressions, but also the Hetalia fics)_ , I feel a little embarrassed, but at the same time, kinda...proud?

Hahaha, I like to think of it like a mark of my progress, hence why I will not be deleting the old _First Impressions_ fic. If you like, you can click the link below to read that. There’s already 23 chapters posted _(a feat which I still can’t believe I’ve done)_.

The core ideas is still the same between the old and new versions of _First Impressions_ , but presented in a different way. For those who have read the old version, I hope that you will like this new one. For those who read only the new one, I hope you’ll be looking forward to the next chapters.

I’ll be dividing my focus between this and my _Mo Dao Zu Shi_ fic series, _The Song Ends but the Melody Lingers_. So updates may be slow. I’m sorry, and thank you for your patience.

Also... _please **don’t** expect perfection from me, because if you do, it will only lead to inevitable disappointment._

Thank you very much for reading all this through! I’ll see you in the next one! ^_^


	2. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya assumed many things about Shizuo. None of them were true.

_What is a ‘human’?_

_Normally, I don’t do this sort of philosophical bullshit. It’s a waste of time to think about these stuff; time better spent on more practical shit. Plus, I don’t get why people need to overcomplicate simple stuff. You live, you die—why bother with the details?_

_But just ‘cause I don’t like complicated stuff doesn’t mean I can’t think about them._

_A lot of people think I’m stupid, and well...they’re not exactly wrong. I will never be a genius like my friend, Shinra (though, considering his personality, maybe that’s a good thing). But I can still think for myself, you know? I’m not a complete idiot._

_Anyway, back to the point. What does it mean to be ‘human’?_

_I said it before: I hate philosophising things. I see no point in them, but this question is very important to me. You see, ever since I was a kid, people have always called me a ‘monster’._

_What is a ‘monster’? The opposite of a ‘human’._

_Then, what is a ‘human’?_

_You see why this is so important to me now?_

_A ‘monster’ is someone to be feared. Someone who’s not normal; who’s dangerous and scary and to be avoided at all cost. They do not belong in normal society, and so they are shunned._

_Trust me, I know._

_But this definition can also apply to ‘humans’._

_Some of the ‘humans’ I fought against are shit; people who have either rejected or were rejected by society. Some of the people my mom deals with are also ‘humans’ who rule the Tokyo underground. The cultists who kidnapped my little brother when he was ten are also clearly not normal._

_So what separates ‘humans’ from ‘monsters’?_

_Shinra told me that his friend, Izaya, is a ‘human’ but I don’t know...Something about him is most definitely off. He also compared Izaya to natural disasters and toxic mist. Geez, Shinra, that’s not how you describe a ‘human’!_

_But then again, he also said Izaya’s like me. Someone who wants to be around ‘humans’._

_..._

_Is Orihara Izaya a ‘human’ or a ‘monster’?_

_...Am I a ‘human’ or a ‘monster’?_

_Is it possible for someone to be both at the same time?_

_Maybe it we become friends, we’ll find the answer together..._

**—Excerpt from the diary of Heiwajima Shizuo**

.

-(X)-

.

The first time Orihara Izaya heard of Heiwajima Shizuo, he thought he was a girl.

It was a reasonable mistake to make. The girl he was chatting with _(who was secretly enamoured with him, he noticed smugly)_ told him that she used to be classmates with‘this crazy strong kid’ who she called ‘Shizu-chan’. That sounded like a girl’s _name (perhaps short for ‘Shizuka’?)_ , so he had assumed that ‘Shizu-chan’ was a girl.

A quick chat with Shinra had shown that he was mistaken.

That would not be the last time he was wrong about Heiwajima Shizuo.

.

-(X)-

.

He couldn’t help but be curious about the budding Monster of Ikebukuro.

Izaya heard that this ‘Shizuo’ was a brunet with insane strength, so he had been on a lookout for such a guy on his first day of school. He imagined someone tall and fierce-looking, with bulging muscles that hinted of his rumoured insane strength and perhaps even a few scary-looking scars that proved he survived the fights Izaya heard of. Alas, he found no one matching such description.

_(Shinra didn’t correct him on this assumption, simply because he found it funny that Izaya’s idea of Shizuo was so different from reality. As a result, Shizuo got through the first day of school without catching Izaya’s attention.)_

By the end of the first day, Izaya got tired of fruitlessly looking for a ‘fierce-looking, super-strong brunet’ and asked Shinra to introduce them. Shinra agreed—seemingly pleased at the idea of his two only friends getting along with each other—and tried to do so, only for Shizuo to not show up at the agreed upon meeting place. Looking away from the students idling by the soccer field, Izaya turned to Shinra with a raised brow.

“Huh,” Shinra stated with a laugh, “I guess he really didn’t come after all.”

“What did you tell him?” Izaya asked, though he was half-certain he already knew the answer.

“Nothing much,” Shinra replied, “Just that you’re kind of an asshole and that he would either like you or instantly want to kill you on sight.”

“Gee, what a great description, Shinra,” he retorted flatly.

“You’re welcome!” Was the future underground doctor’s cheery reply. Izaya stared at him for a moment, wondering if his sarcasm flew right over his head or if his only friend knew it and simply didn’t care. Knowing Shinra, it could easily be both.

Considering Shinra’s less-than-stellar description of him, Izaya assumed that any attempts to ‘befriend’ this ‘Shizuo’ would be met with failure. After all, who wanted to be friends with someone with that description? It was such a shame though, since Izaya thought it would be fun to include someone with such rumoured ‘super-strength’ into his plans. At least he would be able to see how much of Shizuo’s famed fighting prowess was exaggerated by rumours.

At that time, Izaya had assumed that Shizuo was simply like one of his beloved humans. The rumours of his supposed strength interested him, but it was only that. Izaya assumed that Shizuo would simply become one of his many pawns, to be used and played with and observed to his whims.

Izaya made many assumptions about Heiwajima Shizuo. All of them were wrong.

.

-(X)-

.

It was at the end of the second day of school did Orihara Izaya finally met Heiwajima Shizuo.

The sun was an orange glow in the sky by then. Having given up on meeting and making a favourable first impression with ‘Shizuo’, Izaya had spent the rest of the day on more productive tasks, such as terrorising Nakura and listening to the gossip about the current gangs roaming the streets. Right now, he had the spark of an idea for a future business, but he needed more information before he could make his move.

All the while, he had kept an eye out for a ‘fierce-looking, super strong brunet’, but the only ones who stood out from the sea of average-looking students were a few blond delinquents. One of them, a fake blond with amber-brown eyes and a seemingly permanent frown, didn’t even look _that_ physically imposing; more like some kind of pretty bad boy from a shoujo manga than anything else. Izaya had shrugged off the disappointment at not finding ‘Shizuo’ and had focused on his other, equally interesting humans.

As he retrieved his shoes from the locker and replaced it with the school shoes, a certain pretty blond he had earlier dismissed as unimportant approached him.

Izaya pretended to ignore him, focusing on tying his shoelaces while he observed him from the corners of his eyes. The blond glared at him, but waited patiently for Izaya to finish and stand up. Seeing this piqued Izaya’s curiosity.

_If he’s a regular delinquent, he would have interrupted me regardless of what I’m doing. But he cant exactly be a normal student either if he dyed his hair like **that**._

_Besides, why is he glaring at me?_

“Can I help you with something?” Izaya asked, plastering a mild smirk on his lips.

For some reason, the other student glared harder, his frown turning into a fierce scowl. _What a shame_ , Izaya idly thought, feeling the tickles of amusement at his behaviour, _he would look much more handsome if he doesn’t look so angry._

“Orihara Izaya,” the blond stated instead of asked, his voice a deep growl that sent a friction of danger down Izaya’s spine. The subtle threat only served to widen Izaya’s smirk.

“Yes, that’s me,” he replied cheekily, “And may I know who I’m speaking with? After all, it’s only polite to introduce yourself.”

The blond scowled harder, seeming reluctant to even part with that information, before he finally answered, “Heiwajima Shizuo.”

Izaya’s eyes widened at the name, his smirk tugging wider. After two futile days of searching for him, the elusive Heiwajima Shizuo has finally shown himself! He couldn’t help but feel elated, his interest increasing on meeting the budding Monster of Ikebukuro.

“Shizu-chan,” he purred, “So good to _finally_ meet you. I must say you look quite different from what I imagined.”

“ _Don’t_ call me _‘Shizu-chan’_ ,” Shizuo narrowed his eyes, fists clenched tightly by his side. He looked as if he was itching to throw the shoe lockers at Izaya, “My name is _Shizuo_. And what did you think I looked like anyway?”

“Well, _Shizu-chan_ ,” Izaya replied, blatantly ignoring the glare he received, “If you must know, I imagined someone—“ he gave the blond a once-over, “— _much_ uglier.”

That caught him flat-footed. Shizuo blushed, making Izaya grin. It was way too easy to flatter somebody and win over their—

“Ugh, stop that,” Shizuo scowled, eyes distrustful, “You’re just as annoying as I thought you would.”

“Oh? The why _are_ you here?” Izaya raised a brow, “Did Shinra finally convinced you to meet me?”

“Nah,” the blond shook his head, “If anything, he did the opposite. Said you’re a pretty shitty bastard.”

Izaya let out a small huff of annoyance. _Shinra_. The man was annoyingly honest at the worst of times.

“Well, you met me. You can judge me for yourself,” Izaya shrugged, turning to leave. Since Shinra had ruined his chances of making a favourable first impression and Shizuo had stated he was annoying, Izaya doubted he could ‘befriend’ the blond. Most people tend to avoid him after they knew his true nature.

_Of course, that couldn’t mean I can’t still **use** him._

With that thought, Izaya felt pacified, convinced that the day was not entirely in vain. However, as he was about to leave, his new ‘pawn’ surprised him.

“Wait,” Shizuo grabbed his arm.

Izaya gave a cursory tug, but failed to even move his arm. He kept up his smirk but frowned inwardly. The blond was stronger than he thought.

“What is it?” He asked, leaking a little bit of terseness into his tone.

Shizuo bit his lip and glanced away for a second, seeming unsure, but he then looked back at Izaya with a determined glance, as if he was about to march into a war zone.

“Orihara Izaya,” Shizuo growled out, “Do you want to be friends?”

_What!?_

At the face of his assumptions falling away, all Izaya could do was laugh.

.

-(X)-

.

Izaya could count the number of times he had been caught off guard in one hand.

The last time it happened was in middle school, when Shinra took a knife for him. It had shaken him more than he cared to admit and he had forced Shinra to promise him to never speak the truth of what happened back then. He never understood why the bespectacled teen would do such a thing for him when he was certain that he didn't mean much to the other. Perhaps it had been some twisted whim? A spur of the moment brought on by Shinra's daydream, his body reacting whilst his mind was lost in a world far removed from the rest of humanity?

Izaya didn't know, and he never asked. He would either find the answer himself or not at all. Any other method was simply unacceptable, akin to cheating in this game of observation and humanity he loved so much.

Humans were unpredictable, he knew, but they were unpredictable in ways that could be measured. Like variables which when arranged would either resulted in A, B, C, or D. He may not know which result he would gain until after the variables had been stringed up and the calculations made, but the outcomes were always something he expected. Sometimes, some people managed to pull out option E, and he would be thrilled, but those were rare and still safely within his realm of predictions.

Shinra—odd bouts of irregularity aside—was predictable. His sisters—despite feeling like rolling a pair of dices every time he interacts with them—were predictable. Humanity as a whole—occasional exceptions notwithstanding—was predictable.

Heiwajima Shizuo was not, and so Izaya concluded that he must be a monster.

When he had approached him that fateful day, Izaya had been expecting a number of things. Chief among them was violence, because he knew of Shizuo's infamous temper and from the looks of it, it had seemed that the blond disliked him without him saying a word.

All of his expectations, proud predictions, careful observations, and _assumptions_ were smashed when Shizuo uttered the words:

_"Do you want to be friends?"_

At that time, Izaya had laughed and left without a word, never glancing back and so never saw the blond's defeated expression, set in a mix of regret and resignation. Izaya laughed and left, because there were no words he could use, nothing which would not betray his shock and surprise, the momentary break in his façade. He laughed and left, because there was nothing to say.

On his way home, a single, ever-persistent one word question rang like a fire drill in his mind.

_Why?_

He was certain that the blond wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him after Shinra’s terrible description of him and Shizuo’s own instinctive disgust. He thought he knew for sure the outcome of that interaction, had made iron-clad assumptions that might as well be facts. After all, there was nothing in their conversation that even remotely _hinted_ that Shizuo would want his ‘friendship’.

The only one he would call friend was Shinra, and even the glasses-wearing teen would happily admit that Izaya wasn't a good person by any stretch. There was no logical reason for the blond to ask him such a thing, no reasonable excuse that would make desiring his friendship possible. Izaya knew who he was, and he had never bothered hiding it.

_So why did he asked that?_

He didn't understand, and it only incensed him further.

People were like variables. Like numbers and letters which formed algebra. String them together in a combination of plus, minus, division, or multiplication, and you would get a result. Sometimes, the result weren't always what you expected, but it was within the realms of probability, and so, not unpredictable. Everything could be calculated, measured, and predicted. Everything followed a clear law; a cause-and-effect stream that could be understood if one was willing to see. Orihara Izaya had been observing humans for most of his life, and so he knew very well the possible motivations which could drive one's actions.

Heiwajima Shizuo's actions _**didn't make sense**._

_Why?_

As he reached his home, Izaya came to a decision: he would uncover the blond's motivation, discern his intentions, and with it, put him back to clearly defined variables which Izaya could predict. Failure wasn't an option, because the brunet never thought for a second that it was impossible. After all, no one else knew humanity better than him.

A grin tugged his lips as he opened the door to his house.

This was a game, and what was at stake was the answer to his question. And Orihara Izaya had never lost in any games.


End file.
